Page 103 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

I nod once. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” she agrees. Then, after a beat, softer, “But it did.”

She shifts slightly on the couch, tucking one leg under her, still absentmindedly holding onto Captain because he’s part of her grounding process.

“I think,” she says slowly, “I might be a terrible judge of men.”

That gets my attention. “I doubt that.”

She gives me a look. “You don’t know my ex.”

I cock my head to one side. “Is this the one you were talking about on…” Oh shit, how do I word this delicately? “When we first met?”

Her cheeks redden as she nods. “Right, yes. That one.”

I lean back. “Tell me more.”

“He didn’t exactly screamterrible personat the start,” she goes on. “He was charming. Fun. Big plans. Big everything.” A small, bitter smile. “Turns out that also included big capacity for being an absolute disaster.”

I don’t comment.

“I kept thinking,” she continues, “if I just adjusted a little, compromised more, smoothed things over, then it’d work.” She shakes her head. “Like I could fix it by being easier to love.”

“You weren’t the problem,” I say automatically, as if I can diagnose something I know very little about.

She lets out a soft breath. “I know that now.”

“Good.”

She glances at me again, flames flickering in her eyes. “It’s just…” she hesitates, then laughs faintly. “It messes with your instincts, you know? Makes you second-guess everything. Like, great, you picked that one, so clearly your judgment is questionable at best.”

“It’s not,” I say.

She arches a brow. “Confident.”

“Yes.”

“Based on?”

I hold her gaze. “Current evidence.”

The room goes very still.

Her voice drops slightly. “That’s a dangerous thing to say.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she says, very carefully, “you’re including yourself in that assessment.”

“Yes.”

Her breath catches, just slightly. “That feels biased.”

“Possibly.”

She huffs out a quiet laugh, but it’s softer now. “You’re very calm about this.”

“I don’t see a reason not to be.”